This journal has been long neglected and I’d like to come back to it. I miss the structure of having a space to post the happenings in my life, in my garden, and in my daily work. I’ve decided I’m going to attempt making journaling in this space a habit once again, if for no one but myself (But as most things go in my life, it may be a sporadic habit that moves with my feelings).

I’ve always been a reflective person and it helps to ground me. Sometimes I get caught in only looking ahead which feeds my anxiety and worries about the everyday. It can be easy to forget who you are by avoiding looking back. This whole past year has seemed to be one long season of looking forward, waiting for the days when we can be together again and for a sense of normalcy to return. In the waiting, I think I may have forgotten how to be present. I hope journaling will bring me back to that state of mind.

What better way to start than with the month of May. May has quickly become my favourite month of the year. The sense of anticipation of spring has built up for so long during the winter and suddenly it’s a rush of growth and blooms as the trees and wintering plants burst to life. Another habit I’ve been attempting to cultivate is capturing the moments as they pass in an artful way (i.e. using my camera, not my phone). I’d like to share a few of those moments with you.

What is it about the first of anything? It’s always so thrilling and memorable. These were my first ever tulips. I planted them in fall and had been eagerly anticipating them all winter. They weren’t perfect or even that large, but they sure were glorious.

This year, I went all in on seed starting. My little sunroom was overflowing with little seed starts. It was a bit overwhelming, but I hope all worth it! So far, the garden seems to be doing alright, with a few exceptions where a certain neighbourhood cat has decided the bed would make a good litter box. It’s been a full on war against this roaming beast.

As the earth warmed up and animals found their mates, there were many days spent out in the wild, soaking in the sun and finding scenes of wonder. My favourite neighbours joined in on some of those adventures and we discovered so much delight together.

A little bit of work was done in between all of the explorations…

… but time was mostly spent out in the world and wild, after so much time spent at home by ourselves.

And also, of course, all the time in the garden. This space is one that feeds the soul. We are now halfway through June and the garden already looks so much fuller. I’m trying to take photos as I can, but it’s growing so much, it’s really hard to keep up! The first blooms are out and it’s starting to look so lovely- can’t wait to share in the next monthly update (hold me to that…).

My parents like to tell the stories of me as a pre-teen girl, tagging along on family summer camping trips. Every trip they had to deal with a wild bear. No, not a bear that had emerged from the woods, but the growling and grumbling that can only come from a pubescent girl who detested camping, being outdoors, feeling dirty and using outdoor washrooms. After putting up with this for multiple trips, they stopped asking this girl to come for the later part of her teenage years because she was simply making everyone else's time miserable. 

I remember this girl. I feel disconnected from her now, but it hasn't stopped me from remembering how I felt, then. And because of that, I had not been camping since those wretched years. I had been invited numerous times but have always politely declined, believing that those feelings remained. But how thankful I am for a husband whose only request for his 30th birthday was to go camping with friends on his birthday weekend. His excitement over the idea proposed by friends overrode all of the surprises that I was secretly trying to plan and I reluctantly agreed to go along. 

The trip ended up surprising me in countless ways and I came back wondering why I had believed that I still embodied that 14 year old self. It's funny how we hold on to bits and pieces of our past that no longer ring true or exist as part of us... I found myself thriving in the camping environment. My imagination was spurred to thoughts of rural living and I realized the simplicity I so often crave could be attained quite easily a few kilometres out of the city. I even found myself being content to go au natural...or not shower. However you want to phrase it, the uncleanliness of being in the woods didn't seem to bother me. 

Above all, what struck me the most were the beautiful moments spent in community out in nature. We ended up spending another evening this past weekend with a different collective of friends at their campsite, eating roasted hot dogs and gooey graham cracker-less  s'mores. I came away from the evening feeling so full of life, inspiration and connection. Every element of that environment seems to be the perfect combination for fullness- an overflowing cup. I was feeling the beauty of my Maker's handiwork in nature, His people and the friendships that have been formed, and the Person He has gifted to me to be by my side. All the distractions of the city and constant visual noise were replaced by simple joys and complete satisfaction in those tiny moments. I want to hold onto this beauty forever and experience it again and again and again. 

**If you are wondering about the strange quality of these pictures, it's because they were all taken with a disposable camera! A new camping tradition, I think.**